Big City, Small World
by Emily92
Summary: / "Oh, no way, I work at the bakery, right across the street," Holly grinned, "Big city, small world." / Parks/Office crossover. Michael/Holly, Ben/Leslie.


**A/N**: Ha. As if I could go the whole summer without writing fic. I've wanted to do something like this pretty much ever since Ben was introduced on Parks. I can really see the four of them being friends. And I love all four of them individually, particularly Holly, whom I've probably got a million headcannons about. Anyway, this is set in New York, and, really, I think that's about all the background you need. Thanks for reading, and if you are so inclined to leave thoughts/feedback, it would make my day.

** Disclaimer**: Sadly, none of these characters actually belong to me.

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**Big City, Small World**

**Chapter One**

Holly Flax had always been unsure of whether or not she should call herself a morning person. She hated the process of being rudely awaken from her time with the sandman by her alarm, but once she was out of bed and able to keep her eyes open she was a happy camper. When she reached this point she had a routine: yoga, shower, off to open the bakery. More often than not, she liked the feeling of having the whole day's adventures ahead of her.

She had been working at the bakery almost ever since she'd arrived in New York City. She'd been hired part time but had eventually become the owner's go-to person and second in command. She liked the job, mostly because of the people. Holly liked making others happy, and baked confections often had that effect on people.

"Morning Hol," greeted Karen, one of her coworkers said as they were opening. She was sporting her usual cup of coffee.

"Hey," Holly replied.

"Place across the street has a new barista," Karen said, smiling, "You know, he's not bad looking."

"Really now?" Holly asked, looking at her knowingly, "I thought you, and I quote, had sworn off guys for at least a month because of Jim Halpert."

"I did. And I stand by that. I'm just saying, sometimes it's nice to appreciate the visual assets that the male population has to offer, even if, as is the case with at least half of them that I end up involved with, there's not much else there. Or, like with Jim, they're really pining after someone else."

"Oh, Karen," Holly said sympathetically, "I'm sorry."

She shrugged, "I just have shit taste is all. In men, at least."

"I think if you realize what drives you to those types, you'll eventually find less terrible men."

"Yeah. Makes sense. Anyway, how are you and AJ?"

"We're good. It'll be two years on Friday."

"Damn love birds," Karen muttered, but smiled good naturedly.

00000000

Leslie Knope glanced at her watch as she entered the office's building. It read 8:55, which meant she had five minutes to spare. She sighed in relief: she had overslept, and she was pretty sure her boss would kill her if she were late.

"Morning Leslie," Jerry, the company's receptionist, said.

"Hi Jerry," Leslie said, forcing a bit of extra cheer in her voice. Jerry reminded her of Eeyore because he was always taking the fun out of everything. He was a bit of a buzz kill, but Leslie tried to be nice to everyone. And she tried to be extra nice to Jerry because she figured he really needed it.

"Um, it's been a bit of a rough morning around here," Jerry said quietly, nodding toward their boss' office.

"Oh, god, Jerry, I'm sure it's not bad," Leslie rolled her eyes, quickly losing her patience with him as she almost always did, "She has her daughter now, don't babies make all mothers happy?"

The door to the office opened, and an angry woman stepped out.

"Leslie, I need you in my office right now," she said shortly, "I cannot deal with this level of incompetence on my own."

"Ok, Jan," Leslie said, following the furious Jan Levinson back into her office.

00000000

At noon, Holly walked outside for her lunch break, basking in the warm June sun. Spring was her favorite season because of the flowers she planted every year would bloom, but summer was a close second.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt herself bump into someone on the sidewalk.

It was a man that she'd bumped in to, and she'd caused him to drop what she assumed had been his lunch.

"Oh, no," Holly said, "I'm so sorry – I completely wasn't paying attention."

He shrugged, not looking too upset, "I was probably equally preoccupied. No harm done."

"Oh, but your lunch – there's a great sandwich shop not too far from here, let me get you something. Make up for being such a spazzy klutz."

"Well," the man paused, considering the proposition for a moment, "Alright."

"Awesome. It's this way," she said, taking the lead, "I'm Holly, by the way."

"Ben."

00000000

"So, can I make a confession?" Ben asked Holly as they waited for their sandwiches.

"Sure," Holly replied.

"I would have normally said no to your offer, but…I just moved here, and I don't have any friends, and you seem nice. Not that I'm coming onto you or anything, I'm sure you're logical enough not to want to date a total stranger, and so am I, of course, and," Ben looked like a deer in the headlights, realizing how this all sounded. He shook his head, "Um, I'm just gonna stop talking."

Holly looked bemused.

"I too, suffer from foot-in-the-mouth syndrome , so I think we're gonna be pretty good friends. So what brings you to New York?"

"I got a job at that coffee shop back where we were earlier."

"Oh, no way, I work at the bakery, right across the street," Holly grinned, "Big city, small world."

00000000

Michael Scott did five jumping jacks followed by several fist pumps . This was his pre-show routine, and he stuck to it religiously because he figured it would be bad luck to stray from it.

He looked at himself in the mirror. Suit and top hat were in place.

Without a doubt, he had chosen a profession that allowed him to look good. If he didn't mesmerize people with his tricks, his good looks and style would certainly do it.

He could hear his assistant Dwight onstage, speaking to the audience. It was almost time for him to go out.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls," he heard Dwight proclaim, "Presenting…Michael the Magic!"

00000000

The brick walls of the bar and grill were filled with people. Holly waited for her friend to arrive, occupying their usual space toward the front.

"Leslie!" Holly grinned when she saw her.

"Hey," Leslie said as she took a seat, "You would not believe the day I've had."

"Jan wake up on the wrong side of the bed again?" Holly asked knowingly.

Leslie nodded and made a face.

"Ladies," the bartender, a burly man with a thick mustache, greeted them.

"Hey Ron," Holly said.

"Ron, I wanna know who peed in my boss' cheerios," Leslie said with a sigh.

"I cannot help you with that, though from what you've told me about that woman, many people would be suspect," Ron said matter-of-factly, "I can, however, get both of you a drink. The usual?"

Leslie and Holly nodded. A few minutes later, he handed them their drinks.

"To the weekend," Leslie said, "To forty eight hours of uninterrupted bliss."

She spoke with relish, clearly excited to be off work and for what the usual Friday night tradition of visiting Ron's bar with her best friend would hold.


End file.
